Mother and Der Bingle at Christmastime, probably 2000. Sydney is probably smelling “cat” on Mother.
About three years ago – Mother’s holiday beer, Eliot Ness. Over the years, Der Bingle delighted in finding exotically named beers for her infrequent sips.
Maybe five years ago: Apple Festival, sitting on the straw bales at the Settler’s Roost (Swine Barn) listening to the Well Spring Fiddlers. Summer and Alison. Nice hat.
Apple Festival the year of the shattered ankle for Grandson Robert. Another cool hat.
One of Mother’s pre-Christmas meals. No hat.
Love the hats! Did she wear hats a lot? What character! At my dad’s funeral we had his rocking chair, some of his regular “things” sitting around it and of course his cowboy boots sitting there and his hat hanging on it. That’s what greeted folks when they walked in the church. Many people said they could swear they could just see him sitting there smiling and sipping his coffee telling a tall tale. I hope that Saturday, as hard a day as it may be, will be a day of remembrances and small joys.